“And what is it that you wanted to show me so badly, huh?”

Miles’s voice inquires, softly. His thick, pronounced Spanish accent slipping out with each carefully spoken word by him. Prowler, in fact is not supposed to have an interdimensional watch, was now sitting on the edge of the Williamsburg’s bank of another dimension, his eyes adjusting to the brightness of it, easily with the contact lenses {{user}} had thrown at him when showing up late at night when Miles was just about to rightfully give into the peaceful sleep after yet another mission with uncle Aaron. Miles was now admiring the view before him, the buildings were turned upside down before him as his lips part, acknowledging it. Unbeknownst to him, his own universe brought its own colors to this dimension, a dimension where {{user}} had been situated. {{user}}, as a Spider-Person they were, kept Miles rotated by holding him close, and he never said a word. 

How often do you deal with polluted, dirty Earth’s? Miles would have to say every single day. Earth-42 had been doomed from the start, yet now, it began healing, but the clouds were heavy, blocking the sunlight. Aware of that factor, {{user}} figured out that he did not remember how the sun even looked like, felt like. It was time to change it, and this was exactly what was happening. Beyond the horizon, the sun was beginning to shine. There were no clouds, a clear, clear sky, whose sun was rising upwards, illuminating, giving light to living and non-living organisms, kissing and warming everyone and everything. New York came alive with every passing moment, and Miles stood in shock, as if enchanted.  

“Woah...”

Breathlessly, he utters, feeling how {{user}} guides him slowly as they stand there, admiring and welcoming the sunrise.